When You Have Nothing Left
by Lyrical Heart
Summary: The war is over, and Hogwarts is buzzing. But what is there left for Draco? His father in prison, his 'friends' have turned their backs to him. But there is someone who wants to know why. Why he risked his life, to save the world.
1. Memories

Draco stared at himself, the water from the faucet running through his fingers. He felt like it was his life instead of water. He did not want to go back to school, the old reason was gone while anew one took up its place. Yes, the war was over. It had been over for a week now. Was that all? Only a week? The Ministry had certainly made quick work of the remaining Death Eaters. They had kept Draco himself in a holding cell for a few days with questions. However, once they had finally gotten it through their thick skulls he did **not** have the Dark Mark, nor was under Voldemort's rule, they sent him home. The manor had never felt so cold and dark. Even with his mother's cries and fussing, Draco felt so... He didn't even know. Potter had defeated the Dark Lord once and for all.

'Good.' Draco thought sourly, glaring at the water that still ran through his fingers. But he still did not want to go to back to school. The Malfoy name was tainted and many of his 'friends' had turned their backs on him. Oh, he still had friends; Pansy and Blaise were really it though. Everyone else hated him, he was sure of it. With a heavy sigh, Draco cupped his hands and splashed his face with water. It was going to be a long day.

The Hogwarts Express seemed to gleam brighter then usual to Harry. It was over, all over. No more Voldemort, no more deaths, no more Dursleys… Harry was free to be a normal wizard and that put a smile on his face. The feeling of freedom swirled in him as he smiled at his friends as Mrs. Weasley fussed over them as usual while Mr. Weasley was conversing with a terrified looking Muggle couple who had come to see their daughter off. The whistle blew and Mrs. Weasley gave Harry an extra tight hug before they hastily boarded the train.

Once platform 9¾ was out of view, Harry sank into his seat with a happy sigh. Ron and Hermione were up in the prefects' compartment but he knew they'd be back in an hour or so. Every few minutes, there was a knock on the door of someone looking for a seat; but when they saw Harry, they would gape at him like a fish or simply runoff. Harry grumbled this time as he got up to answer the knock. It was getting old, this game of "Look-it's-Harry-Potter". The young man was unprepared for the vision that met his eyes. Draco Malfoy was standing in the aisle, panting and shaking and looking utterly terrified. His grey eyes widened and he glanced back down the aisle. Out of curiosity, Harry happened a look down the hall. A tall, lean boy with a definite swagger was smiling through the other students at the blonde, the large forms of Crabbe and Goyle followed him menacingly. Draco looked like he was going to faint in fright, then Harry's hero complex took over.

In a fluid motion, Harry had pulled the slight boy into the compartment and slid the door closed. Draco stumbled before finding his way into a seat. He was taking some deep breaths when Harry sat down opposite him. The blond seemed to calm down a bit, though he was trembling slightly. He met Harry's gaze and the two young men stared at each other. A tense, awkward silence filled the air. Harry remembered earlier that week, when the war had ended… how it ended.

_Harry was kneeling, his arms bound behind his back and his wand mere feet from him. His glasses were cracked and blood was dripping off his face where Bellatrix had struck him earlier. He felt the circle of Death Eaters pressing in on him as Voldemort's feet remained stationed before him. _

_"Bring him forth." The high voice of the most feared wizard of the century rang out in the silence of the room. Footsteps, Harry looked up. Draco was walking up, unmasked and wearing simple robes. He looked so small in them as he approached the snake-like man. He glanced at Harry, who gave him a hateful, ugly look. Voldemort began addressing the Death Eaters and Draco stared pleadingly at Harry. He was glancing between the bound boy and his holly wand that lay so close. "Draco…" The blonde's attention snapped to the man addressing him and he visibly began to shake. "Do you accept the honor of being a Death Eater and serving me by taking upon you your first task?" The teen stared into the face of evil before giving a curt nod. _

_"I am prepared my lord." Voldemort's lipless mouth stretched into a cruel smile, and he gestured towards Harry. The raven-haired boy glared up at the pair of them, gritting his teeth and showing no fear. Voldemort leaned over Draco's shoulder as the teen stared down at his rival. _

_"Torture him." Another curt nod. Draco raised his wand. Harry was as prepared as he could be for what was coming._

_"Crucio." Harry screamed as his nerves burst into agonizing pain. He wreathed, rolling in his restraints as the pain overtook him. It disappeared as quickly as it had come, leaving Harry panting and aching. A Death Eater roughly pushed him back on to his knees, to face what was coming next. Voldemort was grinning wickedly and Draco's face had turned cold and emotionless._

_"Excellent. Now, Draco… __Kill him__." The words were said with such vigor, it nearly sounded like the older man were singing them. Draco raised his wand again, glancing at Harry's wand then to Harry himself. The blonde's hand shook, a look in his eyes told Harry he was terrified. Draco inclined his head and opened his mouth. No one expected what came out. _

_"Relashio!" Not believing his luck, Harry dived for his wand as Death Eaters scrambled and shouted. Voldemort's cry of fury drowned out the other's noise. Harry turned to the snake-like man who had rounded on Draco, just as reinforcements burst through the door via Snape's instruction._

Draco had averted his eyes; a faint blush forming across is nose. He mumbled something Harry could not hear, growing increasingly interested in the windowpane.

"What?" Harry asked, straining is ears to hear him.

"Thank-you, Potter…" Harry leaned on his elbows, pressing them into his knees. He didn't really know what to say. Draco had saved his life, on a whim or out of fear or for some unknown reason and all he had done was pull the blonde into his compartment.

"Why… Why were you running from them?" He looked up at the fidgety Slytherin. "Aren't they your friends?"

Draco turned his gaze back, obviously uncomfortable. "Not friends… Children of Death Eaters banning together." His voice was low, sad and possibly even scared. "What I did was unforgivable to them…" Harry leaned forward farther; the movement caused Draco to swiftly look at him.

"It was alright by me." He whispered. The blonde stared at him for what seemed like an eternity. And then, Draco snorted in dry laughter.


	2. Mood Goop

"I still don't think we can trust him," Ron grunted as the trio climbed into a carriage. Harry scowled at his friend before giving the thestral harnessed to their carriage a final pat. The skeletal horses still gave Hermione and Ron the creeps, but Harry found them to be magnificent creatures. Besides, Harry was not the only one scowling Ron.

"Ronald! He saved Harry's life! We may not have won if he hadn't broken Harry's bonds…" Hermione went quiet, remembering the war. Ron's ears were red from the slight embarrassment and he murmured an apology. So many people had died that day.

Harry leaned back, looking from Ron to Hermione and a small smile came to his face. He had told them about his experience on the train and their reactions were classic. Ron, untrusting and suspicious, and Hermione, trying to find the good in everything. Merlin's beard was Harry glad they had finally hooked up. For years he had kept himself from getting into their petty arguments and telling to just go and snog each other. Life was getting better since the end.

But Harry couldn't get Malfoy's face out of his head. He had looked so scared, not as much as the day he had been forced to torture Harry, but pretty damn close. He sighed; this was going to be a very strange year.

Pansy would not let Draco alone. Ever since Theodore's threat to torture him on the train, she was mothering over him worse then ever. "Are you hurt? Did he curse you? Torture you? Draco, why are you blushing?"

"PANSY! I'm fine! I slipped out of sight before he got too close. Someone let me share their compartment for the trip." The blonde groaned when Pansy gave him a suspicious look.

"Who?"

"Pans, why don't you quite smothering him and let Draco breath."

'Thank all the Gods of the world for Blaise.' Draco thought as he followed his only friends up the stone steps of the castle. As usual, the entrance hall was buzzing with chattering students, teachers and ghosts. Peeves was creating a ruckus by throwing water balloons. At least, Draco thought they were water balloons. Until one landed on the floor and exploded in a whirl of colored goop, covering Pansy, Blaise and himself.

"PEEVES!" Filch was shouting himself hoarse at one end of the hall, covered in bright red goop and holding an equaled covered and pissed off Mrs. Norris. Grumbling sourly, Draco pushed a large amount of the mess off his head. It landed on the entrance hall floor with a half-hearted plop. The goop still on him turned a depressing shade of beige that matched his mood spectacularly. A Weasley product, he should have known.

The Sorting went by fairly quick, ending with Zebra, Charles (Hufflepuff), after which Headmistress McGonagall stood at the center of the table. The table was filled with some older and stressed, but thankfully familiar, faces. Hagrid waved at Harry, who waved back, as well as Remus, who had been reinstated as the DADA professor. McGonagall held up her hands and the Great Hall fell silent.

"We have suffered greatly these past few years, losing a number of fine students such as Cedric Diggory, Luna Lovegood, Millicent Bulstrode, Katie Bell, Ernie Macmillian and Susan Bones. Let us try to keep this year a hard working and well-deserved one in their memory as well as the others that have given their lives to ensure our survival over this summer. Dig in."

Food instantly appeared, but many did not feel hungry after the speech. However, stomachs soon sang in a chorus and everyone was quickly stuffing their faces and the merry chatter flamed up again. Harry laughed with several other Gryffindors at the 'mood goop' Peeves had been throwing around the entrance hall as he ate heartily. His eyes gradually slipped to the Slytherin table where Draco sat off to the side with Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini.

The blonde was obviously pushing his food around his plate as his friends were arguing about something. His storm grey eyes flicked up to meet Harry's. The raven-haired boy kept his gaze while the blond returned his to his uneaten food, pushing it around with more zeal. Harry looked at his nearly empty plate and his hunger subsided. Maybe this year was not going to be as easy as he thought.


	3. The Prediction

Harry felt that two weeks was a pretty short time in which to receive a detention. Snape, on the other hand, felt quite differently. Now that the war was over, Harry and Snape's relationship had changed a great deal. There were no more secret Death Eater plans or strange happenings in which Harry needed special protection from. Now, it was a typical student-teacher hate relationship.

As he drudged up to Charms with Ron and Hermione, he wondered what exactly he had done to deserve his detention. 'Oh yeah,' Harry thought, still smiling. 'I turned his hair pink.'

It had been an accident, Harry tripped and splashed up Neville's potion and got it in the older man's greasy hair. Instantly, every hair visible on Snape turned a violent shade of pink. Now he had to wash out cauldrons for Merlin knows how many hours tomorrow night.

The green-eyed boy sighed, entering the classroom. Tiny Flitwick had them taking notes, so Harry could converse lowly with his friends.

"That was a good one mate, I thought seeing Snape in Neville's gran's clothes was great.. But that was priceless!" Ron cheered Harry quietly, still attempting to fight his laughter.

Hermione gave both of them a sour look. "It's not funny. There's no telling what that potion might do to Snape!"

Both boys stared at her, making the bushy-haired girl blush. "He might grow an extra head, or something horrible might happen to him."

Harry looked at Ron, who shrugged. "Still not seeing a problem there 'Mione…"

Draco had switched into Divination. Originally, he had done it to prove that if Granger could not cope with it, he certainly could. And after two weeks of it, he completely understood why the Muggle-born had walked out.

It was after lunch and he had Divination with the Gryffindors, which was even worse. As he stood in the North Tower, waiting for the trap door to open, people were either glaring or ignoring the blonde. Lavender and Parvati were exchanging excited whispers as they waited. This was easily their favorite class, but Draco was dreading it. Having gotten sick from the fumes, he had already missed most of the classes by being in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey had finally given him a potion to help him cope with the fumes, muttering something about drugs.

His grey eyes caught the vision of Harry and Ron climbing up the stairs before looking away. Half the reason Draco went to the hospital wing was so he would not be in the same room as Harry when Pansy or Blaise were not there. At least they could keep him from noticing the boy, but not in Divination.

The silver ladder dropped down in front of Draco, making him jump. Several other students snickered at his start. Blushing furiously, the blonde grabbed the ladder and climbed up, muttering every obscenity he could think of.

Once everyone had climbed into the heavily perfumed, circular classroom Professor Trelawney swooped out of the shadows, this time making Dean and Seamus jump. Draco laughed quietly, sitting in the table at the back alone.

"My dears, I have had a vision! Last night while having my usual tea-"

"Sherry…" Ron muttered, Harry letting out a snort. However, the insect-like professor ignored them.

"I have the urge to read someone's palm!"

Draco rolled his eyes. He had cottoned on pretty quickly that Trelawney was big on drama and announcing Harry's death at every possible turn during class. Death and misfortune was Trelawney's cup of 'tea'. Lavender and Parvati only fueled the woman's dramatics by 'ooh'ing and 'ahh'ing at every flair she produced. Sighing roughly, Draco looked into the blazing fire that seemed to be glinting a different color every now and then. Trelawney must have put some herbs in it so it would do so.

"And that person whose palm I was instructed by the Inner Eye to read was…" Harry was already holding his hand out, looking quite bored. However, Trelawney past him and stood before Draco instead. Everyone stared in shock as the thin woman held out a hand for the pale teen's.

Draco stared at her. Trelawney always picked on Harry. Nonetheless, Draco complied, looking a bit nervous and completely confused. He was not the only one. Ron was staring dumbly with the rest of the class while Harry's eyebrows were high on his forehead, his hand back on the table.

Everyone was silent as Trelawney studied the Slytherin's palm. "Oooh… Hmm…" The woman's magnified eyes glanced up into Draco's storm grey ones before returning to his palm. "Fear… Misfortunate. Oh, dear you are a very unhappy person… Such a sad lifeline… So thin, long though. You seem to have had an accident in your third year…"

Draco rolled his eyes, muttering. "You don't say…"

She ignored him. "Oh… But I see love in your future!"

Everyone's jaws dropped, Draco's stomach giving a lurch. Love? Since when did Trelawney preach love in someone's life?

"Oh but such a deadly love."

There it was. The entire class breathed a little easier. Apparently since he survived the war, Harry was no longer a source of death omens anymore; and Draco, being new to the class, was fresh meat. The blonde huffed, glaring at the frizzy-haired teacher and yanked his hand away.

Trelawney straightened; spreading her arms wide and announced in her mistiest voice, "We will be beginning our new lesson on palmistry. If you will get into pairs and open your books up to page 57… We shall start with the section on the Fingers."

Draco watched his classmates for the rest of the period as they stumbled through their lesson. However, his thoughts went back to Trelawney's reading and he looked at his palm. Deadly love, huh? Maybe he should have been trying to get this old coot fired instead of Hagrid…


	4. A Clean Caludron

"And when you have finished cleaning those, you may start on the vials," Snape snarled, looking down at Harry with complete loathing. Harry merely nodded and sighed loudly when Snape exited the dungeon with a flaring of his robes.

Once he was sure the potions master was out of earshot, the Gryffindor snickered. The man had managed to get most of his hair back of its normal color but the tips of his greasy hair and eyebrows were still bubble gum pink. Once the fit of laughter subsided, Harry picked up a rag and started cleaning.

Hours later, Harry emerged from the dungeons with very sore hands. He was calling Snape every name he could think of, including a few he had come up with on the spot when he saw a flash of silver fly across the entrance hall. A manic giggling followed it and the raven-haired young man groaned… _Peeves_.

However, it seemed that the poltergeist was more interested in something else, which he was currently pelting with water balloons. This something was soaking wet and not protesting against the assault. Harry peeked around the stairs and saw Draco Malfoy standing in the middle of the entrance hall wearing nothing but a white button up and a pair of black trousers. He was dripping and his shirt had become translucent from the water content. His head was hung, staring at his bare feet. Even from the distance, the Gryffindor could see he was shivering.

Harry bit his lower lip before hiding himself in the shadows and calling out in his deepest, ghostliest voice. "Peeves…"

He heard the poltergeist stop and cry, "Whose there?"

"It is I, Peeves, the Bloody Baron…"

"Oh! Your bloodyness!"

"Leave here Peeves, leave this boy alone…"

"Yes sirs.." With a final splash and a cackle, Peeves flew off up the stairs to wreak havoc elsewhere. Harry came out of the shadows and entered the entrance hall.

"Malfoy…"

Draco jumped, spinning to see Harry standing by the staircase leading to the dungeons. "Potter? What are you doing here?"

The raven held up his hands, which were red and slightly swollen. "I had detention with Snape. What are you doing here?" His green eyes trailed down Draco's waterlogged clothes and the blonde blushed faintly.

He fidgeted for a moment, then pushed his head up high and turned his expression stony. "None of your business Potter." They both knew Draco had completely half-assed his usual demeanor.

Harry crossed his arms and cocked an eyebrow at the other boy; he wasn't buying it.

With a rough sigh, Draco ran a hand through his limp hair. A few droplets made their escape from the silvery strands down his back. Draco shivered, "I… I needed some air."

Harry felt kind of bad as he watched the blonde shiver and shake in the cool air. If he had been dry, then Harry would have just left him there… Wouldn't he? It made no difference now though, since he was pulling off his robe and draped it over the other teen.

Draco looked up with wide grey eyes as the warmth of the red-lined robe began seeping into his thin body. He looked, well, pathetic. Harry offered a lopsided smile, but Draco was still looking at him in shocked puzzlement.

"What are you doing?" The blonde looked up at Harry incredulously as the Gryffindor spoke.

"It's commonly referred to as helping…" They were silent for a bit. "Why did you just let Peeves soak you?"

Draco let out a breath he had not realized he had been holding. Needless to say, the Slytherin had been rather jumpy since their last Divination class and he had half expected Harry to question him about that night, when everything ended. Draco shook his head a little, unconsciously, pulling the edges of the borrowed robe tighter around him.

Harry realized he wasn't going to get much more out of him and sighed. "Can I... can I walk to back to your common room?"

Draco had never felt more awkward. Here he was walking barefoot and dripping wet down the dungeon corridors clinging to a Gryffindor school robe with Harry Potter, the boy who he had helped save the wizarding world. A small wave of jealousy swept over him at the thought that everyone thought the raven-haired boy had stopped Lord Voldemort single-handedly while Aurors had interrogated him after his help. He huffed a little, trying to imagine it when they came bursting in to find Draco knocked out cold and Harry struggling against Voldemort.

The huff quickly turned into a shiver as the memory of the older man's cold hand wrapping around his neck, wand ready to destroy him. Draco blushed when he caught Harry looking at him in what he thought was suspicion. It was actually concern. Both young men knew Harry wanted to know why Draco had done it. Wanted to know why the son of Voldemort's right-hand man released Harry instead of killing him.

"When did you get back last night? We waited up for hours!" Ron whined between mouthfuls of food while Hermione nagged him about his eating.

Harry sighed, "Really late, my hands were swollen by the time I was done."

Hermione tsked, launching into one of her 'It-serves-you-right' speeches when the post flooded in. Hermione looked up, smiling as a large grey owl landed by her cereal bowl and dumped the Daily Prophet in front of her. As she paid the owl and unrolled the newspaper, a tawny owl carrying a large, bulky package landed before Harry.

With his two friends staring in bewilderment, Harry untied the parcel with the same confusion on his face. It was oddly shaped and lumped, wrapped in what looked like old parchment and string. Tucked neatly in one of the strings was a small note. Glancing at Hermione, who wore a suspicious look to Ron, who was dribbling eggs down his front, Harry took the note and unfolded it.

There, sitting in the center of the parchment were two small, neatly written words. Harry gave them a half smile and moved the parcel to his lap, waving off his friends' questioning expressions. The two words were: _Thank you_.


	5. Palmistry

Harry found that Malfoy had not only returned his robe, but also mended a few seams that had been wearing away. He was beaming at everyone that morning without really knowing why. Hermione kept giving him suspicious glances, desperate to know what Harry had received and from whom, which Harry ignored. As the days dragged on, Harry began to get that nagging voice in the back of his head that often sounded like Hermione. Why had Malfoy just stood there and taken the abuse from Peeves? Why had he been so jumpy around Harry when he tried helping?

'Well,' said the Hermione-voice, 'you two have been enemies since you met.' No we have not, Harry thought back. They had been civil with each other when they first met, because they did not know who the other was. Further more, the short conversation they had had that night made Harry feel like maybe, just maybe, old enemies could become new friends.

Draco obviously did not share the same zeal for this concept, because he was avoiding Harry as much as he could. He was no where to be found unless they shared a class, and even then he would bury himself in his work or hide behind his two remaining friends. However, Divination was not one of those classes. Harry simply needed to wait for the right moment, mainly a time when Ron was not there.

The very moment occurred two weeks after Harry and Draco's accidental meeting. Ron had contracted some strange array of boils and rashes from a plant in Herbology and had to be rushed to the Hospital Wing while Harry was shooed off to Divination. As usual, he was one of the last ones to climb up the silver ladder and carefully scoped out the tables. He spotted the blonde sitting alone on an over-stuffed pouf by the fireplace. With a determined grin, Harry walked over and slid onto the pouf beside him.

Draco cast a nervous glance at Harry as the trapdoor was shut and Trelawney swooped upon another unsuspecting pair as they opened their books. Why was Harry sitting with him? Where was Weasley? Why were his hands shaking so badly? His inner voice scowled him, 'Stop acting like such a baby! It's only Potter.' Only Potter… But Draco didn't feel like Harry was 'only Potter' any more.

His stomach gave an unpleasant lurch when the raven-haired young man turned to him. "Would you like to read my palm, or shall I read your's?"

"Erm.." Draco said before thrusting his hand towards Harry. "You read mine I suppose… You would probably be more accurate then that… woman."

Harry snorted, taking the slender hand before him. Cradling it in his own hands, Harry glanced at the book before looking at the lines in Draco's hand. "Okay, let's see." He traced the crease that ran a curve around the thumb with his forefinger and referred to the book. "Your life line… It's kind of chained at the start here… That indicates… poor health in early life." Draco was blushing like crazy and he did not know why. Harry flipped a few pages, spouting what he read in relation to what Draco's hand showed. Harry turned Draco's hand slightly, "You don't have any marriage lines."

It was at this moment that Trelawney felt complied to swoop down on them. "No marriage lines you say? Let me see." Trelawney tore the blonde's hand from Harry and looked imploringly at it, as though willing the lines to appear. "It seems you are correct, Harry, dear. Mr. Malfoy has no marriage lines. And what do marriage lines represent?"

Harry looked thunderstruck. "Umm…" he looked at his book, "That he hasn't had a 'love that stirs the heart deeply'?" He was reciting the book.

Trelawney gave them homework; decipher their own palms for the month. Harry was glad to breath fresh air but he waited until Draco had descended as well. "Malfoy. Hey, Malfoy!"

Draco had walk straight past Harry in an attempt to get away. But the Gryffindor followed him. Draco sped up, so did Harry. Finally, both young men broke out in full out runs, Harry chasing Draco.

Somewhere along an empty fourth floor corridor, Harry caught Draco's sleeve and pulled both of them to a halt. Draco, blushing and panting, looked back at the teen hero, who was also gasping for breath.

"Draco.. please, I want to talk to you." This was the conversation the blonde had been dreading.

Harry dragged the Slytherin into an empty classroom and closed the door, trapping Draco. Harry rubbed his green eyes tiredly, seating himself on a desk. Draco stood, clutching his bag nervously, in the center of the room. The two stared at the other in silence for a few moments before Draco spoke up. "What do you what to talk about?"

He knew perfectly well what Harry wanted to talk about. They both knew, but Harry spoke anyway. "Why did you spare me?"

There it was, lying on the floor; the question that had been haunting Harry, that Draco had been avoiding for weeks. Draco let out a shuddering breath, lowering his bag to the cold stone floor before following it. The blonde curled into himself on the floor, staring at Harry's feet. He did not want to answer, but knew he was not going to be leaving until he did. Harry was far better at jinxes and Draco was not keen on going to the hospital wing with an extra limb. After several moments passed, Harry slid off the desk and onto the floor so Draco was staring at his face instead of his feet.

A rattling sigh emitted from the blonde. "You need to want to kill someone in order to use Avada Kedava." Harry nodded, he already knew this but stayed quiet as Draco continued. "I knew I couldn't kill you, so I did the second best thing I could think of."

The Gryffindor stared. "You know, I've heard some pretty shitty answers in my life… But that one takes the cake."

Draco let out a nervous, but amused laugh. "Well, that's all you're gonna get out of me now, Potter." He looked up into the other boy's face. Those emerald eyes bore into him and made him shiver. They had been rivals for so long, yet a mere month ago Draco had saved Harry's life in an attempt to save the wizarding world.

To kill himself…


	6. Honest Scars

Draco stared at the object laying inches from him, between his spread legs. He leaned against the stall separation a little heavier as he tilted his head this way and that, trying to see the moonlight pouring through the high window reflect off of it. He could not exactly recall how he had managed to convince the kitchen elves to give him the silver knife, but there it sat, waiting. Draco leaned his head back, letting out an audible sigh. He stared at the ceiling, refusing himself the need to blink. Every time his closed his eyes, it seemed those snake-like red eyes of Voldemort were closer then ever.

He remembered the feeling so well, as Harry's question had brought it back; that selfish, foolish reason for keeping the raven-haired boy alive. He was not that great at Occlumency, so he knew the Dark Lord could see his fears and wants. Draco knew the only way of ensuring his suicidal tendency, which had arisen with Voldemort's mission to kill Dumbledore, would be met if he betrayed the Dark Lord. If Harry had been killed, Voldemort would have kept Draco alive… Just to torture him. But now that evil man was dead and Draco was left sitting on the cold stone floor of the boys' restroom, staring at a kitchen knife.

Over the past few weeks, Draco had edged back into this state and both Blaise and Pansy, the only friends he had now, went so far out of their way to make sure he did not harm himself. Draco was sneaky, though, and had managed more than once to try and cut, poison or otherwise maim himself. Several times had Pansy burst into tears and screamed at him to stop. But that was not what was keeping the blonde from slicing open his skin tonight. It was Harry Potter, the man he had spared. Harry, who had started sitting closer to Draco in class, who would smile and say hello whenever they passed one another. Draco's stomach gave a lurch and a lump seemed to fill his throat, though he did not understand why.

'That stupid grin, that mop he called hair, those thick glasses that did nothing for his complexion…' Draco found himself thinking without any real venom or hatred. If anything, they sounded affectionate in his head, which confused him more. Angry at his conflicting emotions and at Harry for saving him from Voldemort's attempt to kill him, Draco picked up the knife and threw it at the mirror.

It bounced off as the handle hit it and clattered loudly into the sink beneath it, disappointing Draco's need to break something. With another sigh, Draco heaved himself up. Staring a moment or two at the gleaming blade, Draco picked it up and locked himself in a stall.

Trelawney seemed to relish the idea of Harry and Draco being paired for palmistry so much that she forced Ron to partner up with Dean Thomas when he returned to class. They had covered most of the hand and all the fingers by this time, so Trelawney sat in her winged chair and called for attention.

"Today we will farther our learning of palmistry by extending our reading to the wrist in accompany with the rest of the hand." Her voice was dreamy as her magnified eyes swept the room. "Please open your books to the chapter on wrists and begin."

Draco, whose mind was swimming lazily in the heavily perfumed air opened his book without much thought before looking expectantly at Harry, who was returning the look.

"What?" The blonde finally asked, slightly confused as to why Harry wasn't putting his hand out.

"You read me last week, so I'm reading you this week. Give me your hand."

The blonde's senses snapped back into place at this comment, his grey eyes focusing sharply on Harry's face. "No. I'll read yours today… You can read mine tomorrow."

"We don't have this class tomorrow."

"Fine, next week then!" Draco's voice was steadily getting louder, attracting the attention of several people.

Trelawney swooped out of the shadows, making both of them jump. "Is there a problem here?"

Harry took this opportunity to gesture towards the blonde, "Professor, Malfoy won't co-operate…"

Red-faced and not wanting to get into trouble over such a stupid argument, Draco simply thrust his hand in the Gryffindor's face. Their insect-like teacher, satisfied, moved on to annoy other groups.

Harry, grinning inwardly, grabbed the pale hand and pushed up the sleeve of Draco's robes. The Slytherin winced, looking away as Harry gazed at his marred skin. He _felt_ those green eyes burning into him, imploring him to look Harry in the eye. "Malfoy… These aren't natural lines."

Calmly, but still red, Draco sniffed, "I'm aware of that Potter." He still would not look at him.

The bell rang; Draco attempted to tear his hand from Harry's grasp. He managed to free it when Ron called to the Gryffindor and sped out of the tower, not once looking back.

Harry laid in bed that night, staring at the canopy of his four-poster bed, listening to the soft snores of his roommates. His mind lingered on the angry, cuts and scars that decorated Draco Malfoy's forearm. How long had he been cutting? If Harry had pushed his sleeve up farther, would he have had more scars? More cuts? This thought carried him into an uneasy sleep with an unusual dream.

**A girl was yelling at Harry, who was quickly apologizing while trying to balance a large stack on books as well as a fishbowl containing a sparkling newt. The girl, glaring at him, picked up a gleaming black cage that held a bleeding and weak looking ferret. "You see what's happening to him?"**

"**I'm sorry! I don't know what happened!"**

**The girl huffed and waved her hand, making the pile Harry was holding vanish. She gingerly took the ferret out of the cage and thrust it into Harry's open arms. "Now you heal him! After all, he spared you!" The girl vanished and was quickly replaced by a number of tall, shadowing people Harry recognized as Malfoy's old followers.**

**Nott stepped forward, grinning manically. "Hand him over Potter."**

"**No." Harry held the ferret closer to his chest, the wounded animal squeaked painfully and began turning into a human being. Harry crumpled to the ground, trying to keep a hold on the figure growing in his arms.**

**The growing ferret turned into Draco Malfoy, bleeding from the wrists and mouth. "No!" Harry bellowed. He began to panic; he had never learned any healing spells to close up the wounds. "No, don't die. Don't die! Malfoy, stay with me… DRACO!"**

Harry awoke to several concerned and blurry faces peering down at him. He had somehow ended up on the floor, his sheets twisted and tangled around his legs.

"Harry, mate, are you okay?" Seamus's blurry figure asked and Ron leaned over him.

"You were shouting in your sleep." Ron's face came into focus when the redhead put his glasses on for him. He leaned a little closer as if examining Harry's head and whispered. "Why were you dreaming about Malfoy?"


	7. The Truth

Harry sat in a corner of the common room with Ron and Hermione. He had already recited the dream he had fallen out of bed for three times and now his friends were analyzing it. Losing interest, the raven-haired young man stared into the roaring fire near them. The scars burned themselves into his retinas as he relived his thoughts from that night. Why was Draco cutting?

Then Harry blinked. 'Woah..' He thought. When had the Slytherin become Draco? Mentally shaking himself, the youth looked back at his friends to see them still talking. He sighed, standing up and interrupting. Hermione looked up in concern, Ron blinked as if not realizing what had just happened.

"I'm going to take a walk to clear my head… I'll catch you later."

"Harry…" Hermione started weakly, but the Gryffindor was already walking away.

Draco found Harry. Well, rather, he fell on him. The blonde had been flying around the lake, trying to get away from Pansy's nagging and Blaise's worried looks. So when he spotted Harry strolling along the lake's shore alone, he smirked. An old habit reared its head, goaded by their past rivalry: he wanted to make the Gryffindor jump. Maneuvering quickly, Draco dived and turned so he was upside down. He was quickly approaching Harry's back, smirking deeply. He did not expect the taller boy to spin, wand out.

Harry could hear the displacement of air. Wand in hand, he turned to see Draco speeding toward him on his broom. Seeker instincts kicking in, the Gryffindor squatted abruptly. The look on Draco's face clearly said he had not planned for this, so Harry reached up and grabbed enough of a handful of the Slytherin's shirt to pull him off his broom. Thus causing their current position.

The Slytherin gasped as the wind was knocked out of him. He lay spread across Harry's abdomen, arms flung up to protect his pointed face. The Gryffindor was also winded as Draco's sudden weight forced air out of his lungs.

"Oof… Malfoy, what the hell were you doing?" Harry leaned up on his elbows, looking down his torso at the blond.

The other teen got up on his hands and knees, panting slightly. He turned his head, giving Harry a sidelong look. "I… It's none of your business Potter!" Draco made to get up, to put some distance between the two when Harry grabbed his wrist. The Slytherin yelped, from surprise at first then pain. He collapsed against the Gryffindor, attempting to push Harry's hand away.

Harry pulled Draco until he was kneeling in front of him before forcing the sleeve up. Green eyes met grey; the exposed pale wrist was red and shiny. "Draco…" The sympathetic expression, the tone Harry had used; Draco was not sure what did it, but he finally snapped.

"YES, I CUT! I SAVED YOU BECAUSE I KNEW HE WOULD KILL ME FOR IT! I DIDN'T SAVE YOU BECAUSE I LIKE YOU, I WANTED TO DIE! WHY DID YOU SAVE ME, HARRY? WHY?" Angry tears welled up and Draco fell forward onto Harry's chest, sobbing.

The Gryffindor blinked, surprised and unsure. Finally, slowly, he pulled the Slytherin closer, tucking the blonde;s head under his chin and rubbed his back. Draco clung to him, soaking the front of his shirt with tears.

They sat like that for a long time, until Draco's tears slowed and finally left the blond hiccupping quietly. When Harry was sure the Slytherin was no longer crying he pulled away slightly to look at him.

"Draco… Are you listening?"

Weakly, he nodded, hiccupping. Harry caught his face, forcing the blonde to look at him.

"It's over. Voldemort is gone." The Gryffindor ignored Draco's flinch at the name, continuing to stare straight into those grey eyes. "There's nothing to be scared of anymore…"

Draco stared at Harry, tears welling up in his eyes again. Softly, still staring, he asked, "Then why am I still terrified?"


	8. The Right Kind of Wizard

Over the last week, something had happened to Harry. He started going out of his way to say hello and smile at Draco everyday. Ron and Hermione thought he'd finally lost it, Pansy and Blaise sharing their idea. But Draco was slowly beginning to come out and greet the Gryffindor back, returning the smiles with a curt nod before small smiles began creeping onto his face. After confiding in Harry, the Slytherin felt like a weight had lifted off his chest; he felt content again.

"Draco…" The blond looked up from the short staring/smiling match he was having with Harry across the Great Hall at his friends. They both looked unnerved.

"What?" He asked in an uncharacteristic tone, a ghost of a genuine smile on his face.

"What has been going on with you and Potter as of late? You have been acting…civil."

"I think what Pansy's trying to get at, mate, is that you're kind of scaring us." Draco stared at them, a faint blush creeping on his face without his say so as he turned his attention to his porridge. "I just… He knows."

Blaise's face went slack while Pansy's contorted in alarm. "He _knows_? About…" "Yes, Pansy. He has seen the scars, the cuts… And, he knows why I saved him… Everything." The dark haired girl's mouth formed an 'o' and her eyes went wide. Blasie set his spoon down and smiled. This confused the blond, who had expected yelling or something like Pansy's reaction. His hazel eyes met brown then grey before a smirk twisted his smile.

"_Everything_, Draco?" The blond gave him a puzzled look, cocking his head to the side. To emphasize his point, he wrapped an arm around Pansy's shoulder and wagged his eyebrows suggestively. A sharp pink blush raged across Draco's face and he glared. Pansy looked between the two before catching on and poorly attempted to hide her smile.

"Not a word, Pansy." The blond growled, eating his breakfast with more conviction.

Meanwhile, Ron and Hermione watched Harry with concern. "Harry, mate… What's up with you and Malfoy lately?"

Harry turned back to his friends, "Whadda ya mean?" Hermione placed a hand on Ron's forearm, getting herself the spotlight for talking.

"Well, Harry, you've been smiling and saying hi to him. Every day, and we're just wondering… Why the sudden change?" The Gryffindor looked at his friends; Hermione, with her steady calm and rational attitude, and Ron, with his short temper and mother hen complex.

He smiled gently at them, "It's… Well, the war is over. Isn't it time to mend old rivalries? House unity and all that…" Eggs dribbled down Ron's chin at his best friend.

"Ron, really, get a hold of yourself… Harry, be straight with us. You know you can tell us…"

The brunette sighed, poking his toast with his fork. "I… I finally got him to tell me why… Why he spared me." Hermione placed a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. Ron once again had his food dipping off his chin as he stared in disbelief.

"Harry… what-"

"I can't… It's not something either of us want known yet. And I promised I wouldn't tell anyone until he was ready." This quick lie had the other two Gryffindors nodding in understanding. Satisfied that they wouldn't ask again, Harry returned his gaze to the Slytherin table.

The former Slytherin Prince sat by the lake, fuming. Pansy and Blaise had made a fool of him at breakfast, teasing him on the subject of Harry Potter. He yanked up and tore apart blades of grass, determined to spend his free period sulking. Harry fucking Potter. Stupid Harry Potter, with his stupid glasses and his stupid scar and stupid friends. Harry Potter. That was a stupid name too. Draco threw the ruined grass away from him, glaring at the lake.

"What'd the grass do?" A voice asked, making Draco jump. The blond recovered quickly, glaring at the new comer. Harry cocked an eyebrow at the Slytherin, standing next to him with his bag on his shoulder. Draco picked himself off the grass, shouldering his bag and sticking his nose in the air; only to trip over a knot of grass and falling into the Gryffindor.

'Fanbloodytastic.' Draco thought as he attempted to push off of Harry. 'As if this day couldn't get more embarrassing...'

Harry had easily caught the smaller youth, holding him to his chest and not letting him go. "Draco." He said firmly, wanting the Slytherin to look at him, which he was refusing to do.

"Potter, let go of me."

"What's up with you today? You looked fine at breakfast." A deep blush raked across the blonde's face at that comment, cursing himself for allowing his mind to go there.

"Nothing. I am fine. Now, let go of me."

"Oh, come on, there's obviously something wrong. Just tell me, Malfoy."

"I said, LET GO OF ME, POTTER!" The blond swung first and the two went down in a fight.

Harry didn't want to hurt Draco, the image of the scars still burning in his mind. However, Draco seemed to be out for blood. The pale youth kicked, punched, bit and scratched while Harry fumbled to hold Draco down. Finally, after a good five minutes, the Gryffindor had pinned Draco's wrists on either side of his head and forced his legs together and sat on them.

Both young men were panting, their eyes dark as their blood pumped with adrenaline. Draco was glaring up at Harry, even as a heavy blush darkened his cheeks. The Gryffindor hung his head, trying to get his breathing back under control before trying to talk Draco down.

"Get off of me, Potter!"

"Shut up, Malfoy." Harry wheezed, looking down at the Slytherin over the rim of his glasses. Finally, the brunette's breathing got to a normal pace and he looked down at Draco. "Now, are you gonna tell me what's got your knickers in a twist today?"

The blond flopped his head to one side, getting a view of Harry's hand on his wrist, pinning him. The blush got deeper, so he turned back up to face Harry as he squirmed.

"It is none of your business!"

"So you'll tell me you're suicidal but you won't tell me why you're tearing up the lawn?" Harry asked quietly, in case there were others near by. The blond stared up, swallowing lightly.

"It… It is nothing. Pansy and Blaise were just teasing and I took it too personal, that is all." Harry gave him a look but realized that was all he was going to get.

The Gryffindor let go of Draco's wrists, pushing himself back into standing and holding a hand out to help the blond up. Draco accepted the hand and rose up next to Harry.

"Hey…" The Slytherin looked up, seeing a bruise starting to form under Harry's left eye. Harry smiled at him, putting a hand on his slender shoulder. "We're not enemies anymore. Remember that, okay? I know you don't have many friends, but I'd like to be one of them."

The blond stared at the taller youth, "Why?"

"Because…" And the Gryffindor's smile turned into a Slytherin-worthy smirk, "I can tell the right sort of wizard to the wrong."


	9. More Than I Should

"So, you and Potter are all chummy…" Blaise began slowly, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched Draco carefully comb back his hair. The blonde glanced at his darker friend in the mirror, not saying a word. "Have you told him that you-"

"Shut up, Blaise." The words were spat like poison, warning the Italian that he was stepping on dangerous ground. But Blaise was a Slytherin, so he merely smirked.

"Oh, I see. How long do you intend to keep this up, Draco? He may be a Gryffindor and a half blood, but even he isn't that stupid or naïve. His friend Weasley, maybe, but Potter's going to figure out eventually that you fancy him…"

The comb that had been raking through Draco fine hair was hurled at the other Slytherin with alarming force. Blaise, used to Draco's temper and his occasion tantrum, flicked his wand and sent the offending comb to the floor.

Draco, on the other hand, was glaring death at him. A few strands of his hair fell against his forehead, loose from their slick norm. Blaise sighed, tucking his wand away and stepping up to his friend, his expression going soft. He reached out, cradling the furious teen's cheek in his chocolate hands.

"You know I'm right, Draco. You're hanging around him more and more with each passing day and with each of those days, and little more of it shows through. After everything we've been through…" He stroked Draco's cheek with his thumb, "After everything you've been through, you deserve some happiness. I don't know what Potter's situation is and I don't want to see you get hurt." Blaise brushed the loose strands back up where they belonged, touching his forehead to Draco's. "You're my best friend."

Draco let out a shuddering breathing, leaning against Blaise. He knew what he was saying was right, but he was scared. Inhaling sharply, the blonde pulled away and slowly turned. "How do I look?"

Blasie smiled softly, nodding. "Brilliant, as always."

Blaise had been correct is assuming that Harry would notice Draco's behavior. He had picked up on the blushes, the quick glances and more-than-friendly smiles that momentarily slipped onto the blonde's face when they talked. Initially, Harry had thought nothing of it, putting it to the newness of their relations and the breakdown of their rivalry.

However, it was now the end of January and still these little things keep appearing. In fact, they had become more frequent. Harry had even caught Draco watching him while they were writing papers together in the library. He had looked…memorized. It was almost as if…

Harry shook his head, clearing the thought from his head before it could fully form. No, there was no way. He put a smile on his face and headed down to the Great Hall. Hermione had perfect duties and Ron was serving a detention, so he had made plans with Draco in Hogsmeade today.

As he rounded the last staircase, Harry spotted Draco standing in the Hall, observing the flow of the House points glasses. Immediately, the Gryffindor felt under dressed as Draco was sporting finely cut and no-doubt heinously expensive clothing that fit snuggly in all the right places.

"Well, aren't we the princess at the ball?" Harry teased lightly, stepping up beside the blonde. Draco looked up, a faint blush staining his well-defined cheeks as he coughed lightly.

"And you look like one of those muggle tree cutters… Are you ready?" Draco was heading towards the doors before Harry could make a comment. His movements were, uneasy today. The brunette furrowed his brow, quickening his step to catch up with Draco.

"Are you alright? You seem a bit…tense." Draco glanced at him, slowing his pace as they began the trek toward the wizarding town.

"I just…have a lot on my mind… There's something I need to tell you, but I'm…uncertain as to how to go about it." Harry put a hand on Draco's shoulder and squeezed lightly, a message to take his time and that he would help in any way he could. However the blonde looked away, bit his lip and tried to put out the burning want for Harry's hand to slid down his arm and hold his hand. He pulled away from the touch, looking back at the worried Gryffindor.

"Draco…"

"Harry, what do you consider me as?" The question was abrupt, factual, asked like a survey.

Harry blinked, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, in your mind, how do you define me as a person in my entirety." Draco's eyes were on him now, grey eyes boring the question into him with the need to _know_. Harry floundered, trying to put into words his thoughts of Draco Malfoy.

"Well, I, uh… I know the person I knew before the war was a mask built up to hide who you were beneath. From what I've seen these past few months, you're an aristocratic, nervous, temperamental bloke with really nice fashion taste. Ah, what's it called... Metrosexual?" The Gryffindor's hands floated along with his words, trying to make his points clearer, still unsure if he was answering Draco's question. The blonde was silent, staring ahead of them and drinking in Harry's words.

"You think I'm…straight?" Now Draco sounded unsure and Harry felt like an ass. In total honesty, he had never really considered Draco's sexuality before but if he thought about it…

"No… Actually, I would've pegged you for being bisexual." Then the brunette's quirked an eyebrow. "Why?"

Draco's pulse quickened and his breathing became shallow, he focused his sight straight ahead of him to give the illusion that he was calm and in control. "It's part of what I need to tell you…" Then Draco's gaze turned toward Harry and the words were out before he could get the chance to back out. "I'm not bisexual, Harry, I'm gay."

They were both silent, staring at each other as their feet continued to carry them down the familiar road toward Hogsmeade. Draco's face was set in a cold mask, awaiting a reaction while Harry stared at him blankly, processing the information until a single word slipped from his lips.

"Oh."

Draco swore he had never had to fight back a stronger urge to strike the Gryffindor. Instead, he set his expression to annoyed and repeated, "'Oh'? Is that all you have to say?"

Harry blinked, becoming confused. "Did…did you expect me to get offended or something?" When the Slytherin's own expression turned uncertain, Harry smiled softly. "Draco, I've seen far too much hatred in this world to have a probably with someone loving someone else simply because part of society is against it. Love is love, no matter what form it comes in. And as fruity as it sounds, it makes the world a better place the more it there is."

This time, Draco did hit Harry. He playfully whacked his arm at the pun, but there was another reason behind the strike too. For being infuriating and in one little speech, making Draco fall for him even harder. Harry chuckled, leaning away from the swat, before coming back in and bumping purposefully into Draco.

"You said that as part of what you had to tell me, so what the rest? You fancy someone?" The blonde glanced at Harry, both jealous and in awe of how easily he slid into the role of supportive.

"Y-yes…" He answered, uneasily. "Perhaps more than I should…" Harry's face tensed, alarming Draco. "What?"

"It isn't Ron, is it?" Draco's eyes got huge and he could not contain the noise of disgust that came out of his mouth.

"Sweet Merlin, NO!" The blonde exclaimed as they finally reached Hogsmeade. As they passed by couples and groups of older witches and wizards, Harry breathed a little easier. He began chuckling as Draco continued to make revolted noises at the suggestion that he could possibly be attracted to Ronald Wealsey.

"Ugh… I think I threw up a little…"

"Oh stop Draco. Now tell me, who is it?" Draco swallowed, looking at Harry. His cheeks, which had been pinked by the cold air, turned redder and his heart felt like it was trying to escape his chest.

"I..uh…It's someone you know." The moment the words slipped out, Draco wanted to smack himself.

"Do you want me to guess?" Harry offered, seeing how frustrated the Slytherin was getting. Draco nodded as they ducked inside the Three Broomsticks and ordered some butterbeer. Once seated, Harry began to rattle off names.

"Blaise?"

"No."

"Seamus?"

"Merlin, no."

"Justin?"

"Who?"

"That answers that… Umm, can't see you being attracted to Neville."

"Ew."

"Yeah, didn't think so… It is a Hogwarts student, right?"

"Yes."

"Current student?"

"Yes, Harry…"

"Hmm…"

"Harry…"

"Give me a minute to think, Draco."

"…Harry…"

Harry looked up when Draco placed his hand over his. The pale limb was trembling fiercely and Draco was gazing down at it, biting his lip. Taking in the blonde's nervous stance and the way his hand draped over his own, it finally clicked in Harry's head.

"Oh."


	10. Call It a Test

Harry was twirling a quill through his fingers, thinking over his last outing with Draco yesterday. Now that he had had time to think over what had been said and everything, he could begin to see threads connecting what he'd been told to previous occurrences.

After his initial rejection, the only way Draco could think of staying close to Harry, of making sure he would be in his head was to become his school rival. Harry could also see where this might have backfired and factored into Draco's self-harming habit over the years. The brunette closed his eyes, leaning back in the squishy common room chair. All this analyzing was hurting his head, of course the fact that he had banged his head against a doorframe repeatedly upon arriving back to the Gryffindor Tower didn't help.

Harry's reaction to the news of Draco being attracted to him had been less then intelligent. After the exchange had been, well, exchanged they silently drank their Butterbeer and then Harry walked Draco back to his common room, saying no more then a polite goodnight. The Gryffindor had cursed himself for being an idiot and hit his head against the frame of the Fat Lady's portrait until she swung open just to get him to stop. He now sported a spectacular bruise around his scar.

'What should I have said?' He thought, continuing to twirl the quill as he ignored the students that quietly chatted or busily did homework around him. Harry wasn't straight, years in the Quidditch locker room had taught him that, but he wasn't gay either. Green eyes cracked open, he wasn't oppose to the idea of Draco and himself like that… He just didn't have the same feelings, yet.

Harry's eyes widened, staring at the high ceilings. Yet? When did…? He shook his head lightly, preparing himself to stand. He needed to find Hermione. She'd know how to word what he was feeling so he could convey it to Draco without looking like an ass.

Draco lay in bed, staring up at the dark green canopy. He'd been like this since returning from his conversation with Harry Potter. It hadn't gone bad, but it wasn't as if the Gryffindor had leapt into his arms either. Finally, the blonde moved. His muscles protested as he rubbed his eyes, sighing tiredly. A knock came from his bedpost, making him turn slowly toward the noise. Blaise stood there, leaning on the bed frame. He looked over Draco's mused hair and wrinkled pajama shirt, noticing that the top three buttons were undone, exposing a healthy amount of pale flesh.

"What is it, Blaise?" The question turned the dark Slytherin's eyes back to his friend's face.

"There's someone here to see you."

"I am not in the mood." Draco huffed, turning back towards the ceiling, long fingers absently playing with his hair.

"You are for this one, trust me. He's already here, so just sit up. I'll be in the common room if you need me." With that, Blaise pushed off the bed and walked toward the door. Draco heard him turn to the visitor and whisper, "Just go in, he's on a low right now but he'll perk up." The blonde groaned and shut his eyes. He didn't want to deal with the world today. Blaise's footsteps faded away and the visitor's soft footsteps approached Draco. They stopped at the edge of his bed and the blonde sighed, opening his eyes to address who ever it was.

He looked over to find Harry standing at his bedside, hands in his pockets and looking unsure. He was going to KILL Blaise. A faint blush on his face, Draco sat up, trying to look more dignified than he felt.

"Harry."

"Hi Draco, I wanted to talk to you." The Gryffindor sat gingerly on the edge of Draco's bed, moving his hands to his knees. "I know my reaction yesterday was less then ideal."

Draco stared at him, hands pressing nervously into his mattress and pushing away the nagging reality that Harry Potter was sitting on his bed. He slowly shrugged, "It doesn't matter. If you are not comfortable or-"

"No, no Draco. I…" Harry shook his head, trying to remember what Hermione had said about his 'hypothetical' question. "I'm not… Um, crap… I'm flattered." That sounded like a good place to start. Draco cocked an eyebrow.

"Flattered?" It was not a nice tone. Harry put his hands up, not wanting to insult the other teen.

"I, well… I was overwhelmed when you told me, Draco. I've never had a guy seriously have interest in me, that I know of…" Harry looked away, trying to get his thoughts together while Draco processed this. The brunette took a deep breath before turning back to the speechless blonde with a shy smile.

"I understand that, yesterday took a lot from you. I don't feel the same now, but I'm willing to see if feeling do de-develop." Harry gripped his knee, embrassed by his stutter. He looked down, away from Draco's piercing gaze.

"I'd understand if you didn't want to… If it'd be too… erm, difficult for you to continue our-" The words Hermione had given him failed when Draco's hand rested on his arm. Harry turned toward the blonde, and for the first time, was stricken with how fragile he was.

Draco was leaning towards him, his paler than blonde hair falling soft and somewhat stringy about his sharp features. His eyes were a clear grey that betrayed his wary hope that what Harry was saying was true. His hand slid carefully down the Gryffindor's arm, gently pulling it onto the bed. Harry watched, curiously, as the blonde just as gently slid his fingers across his palm and nervously interlocked their fingers.


	11. A Tentative Beginning

Harry pushed open the door to the prefects' bathroom, having narrowly avoided Hermione's questions about his whereabouts as of late. He couldn't bring himself just yet to tell her, to tell anyone that he was dating Draco. Harry himself could hardly believe it. But here he was, three weeks into a relationship with the young man who had turned his world upside down since the end of the war.

As he against the door, Harry heard the muffled sounds of water sloshing and the faint sound of fizzing bubbles. Curious, the Gryffindor pushed off the wood and wandered through the large bathroom. He came to a stop at the edge of a very full, bubbly tub. It seemed empty, but something was moving under the heavily scented blue foam. Eventually, the pointed face of Draco popped out of the water with a spray of indigo bubbles and a gasp, his hair slicked wetly against his skull.

Harry smiled, looking down at the pale vision that was his boyfriend. As weird as it may seem from an outside view, the brunette had always considered Draco a very physically attractive guy, even when his false snobbery got in the way. The blonde was beautiful.

Draco wiped the suds from his eyes, looking up to see Harry standing nonchalantly on the edge of the tub. Instantly, hands plunged into the water and his porcelain face glowed a daring pink. "Harry! What are you doing here?"

"Zabini told me you were here." He replied plainly, his hands casually in his hoodie pockets. Draco's blush deepened to a red, staring up at him. Harry was acting as if it were completely natural for him to be standing around, watching Draco bathe.

"I am getting out, turn around!" Harry snickered but complied, gracefully twisting himself away from the blonde. He didn't look, but he did listen. He listened as Draco sloshed out of the warm water and foam, as wet feet slapped the cool stone floor, as dry towel met soft skin. The rustle of clothing, the grunts of hurried dressing… "Alright, you may turn around."

The blonde was fixing the collar of his dark grey button-up, his wet hair whisked back but unruly. Harry smiled, looking up at the graceful platinum strands as they shifted with each of Draco's movements.

"What are you staring at?"

"Your hair." Draco's stormy eyes, glanced at the wisps that fell before his face. He frowned, putting a hand through it.

"Yeah… It's a mess. I'll fix it."

Harry stared at the blonde before reaching out and catching his arm, making sure to catch the elbow so not to put pressure on any scars. He couldn't let Draco put that awful gunk into his beautiful hair.

"Why do you gel it?" The blonde was caught off-guard, glancing away before tossing a catty remark.

"To keep my hair from look like your's."

"Come off it," Harry replied, shrugging off the insult to his mop, "I can't help mine, it does what it wants. You though, you've got this gorgeous hair yet instead of letting it loose, you helmet it down to your skull."

A faint blush crept over Draco's face, his unoccupied hand reaching up to touch his still damp hair. "You think it's gorgeous?"

"Here, let me."

"Alright, just a bit like this…" Harry had his hands deeply thrust into Draco's hair as they stood in the middle of the prefects' bathroom. He was fluffing it out and adjusting it so it looked the way it had when Harry had seen it that day in Draco's dorm room. Draco was standing stock-still facing Harry, his eyes shut tight and trying desperately to contain his blush. But the feeling of the Gryffindor's hands in his hair was tantalizing.

The brunette blinked as Draco started slowly leaning into the touch, his thin lips slightly parted. Harry wondered what it would be like… In the three weeks they had been together, they had done nothing more than hold hands.

He stilled his hands, leaning in hesitantly. He was mere centimeters away when he got nervous. What if Draco didn't want him to? Harry didn't want to force him.

His heart felt like it was beating far to fast for something like this; he looked up from the blonde's lips to the tight-shut eyes.

"Draco, can I… kiss you?" He felt the Slytherin shiver under his hand, felt the push of breath mingling with his own.

Slowly, Draco nodded. Harry's heart slammed against his sternum, he could fell himself begin to tremble as he gently pressed his lips to the blonde's. Harry had kissed before, but this was different. Draco's lips weren't large and plush, but they were still soft and warm. The Gryffindor wondered how else it would be different.

He extracted one of his hands for the silk-soft hair and trailed it down to the base of Draco's spine, pulling him closer experimentally. Here, the blonde wasn't soft, but lean and angular as there were no breasts to get in the way.

Draco gasped at the contact, his hands catching hold of the brunette's sweatshirt to anchor himself. He didn't know what Harry was doing and for the moment, he didn't care. It felt amazing and it was sending pulses of warmth all over him. Harry was thin, solid, and hot. He produced heat like a furnace and Draco was sure he'd come away with burns.

But right now, that didn't matter. Right now all that mattered was that Harry was kissing him of his own conviction and, by Merlin, Draco felt drunk with happiness he never thought he could feel.

It was several minutes later that they separated. The hand that had been in Draco's hair had shifted to support and cradle the back of the blonde's skull. Harry massaged his thumb gently against Draco scalp, keeping his other hand firmly on the base of his spine. The Slytherin was breathing slowly, his hands still rested on Harry's chest, absently fiddling with the fabric they found there.

"Are we still…'experimental'?" The soft question came without preamble. Harry stared at Draco, who was truly quite interested in the loose thread on the edge of the zipper of the brunette's hoodie. The Gryffindor sighed, tugging gently on the back of Draco's head to make him look up. Once grey met green, Harry smiled.

"No, Draco. I think we're more than that."

This time, Draco was the one to launch the kiss. And the second was by no means as innocent as their first.


	12. Trust In Me

Charms class wasn't all that interesting today. Flitwick had them copying notes on Impedimenta, a stronger stunning spell that those who had fought in the war knew already. Nevertheless, quills scratched at parchment.

Draco was focused, his neat scrawl unwavering until an origami scarab scuttled through the still-wet ink. He blinked, looking about him to find the source of the magic note. Several desks away, surrounded by his old followers, sat Knott, smirking. The blonde swallowed, taking up the paper beetle before it could make more of a mess of his notes. He unfolded it, his mouth becoming dry as the message that was hastily written: '_You're no longer a true Slytherin. Next time you step into our house, you're dead._'

Harry's eyes lazily scanned the classroom, ignoring the hushed argument Hermione and Ron were having about their notes. Ron wanted to simply sleep and borrow Hermione's notes later, but she was telling him no. She'd give in, she always did. So Harry looked about until his eyes landed on his boyfriend. He was still getting used to that word, even now in January. Instead of busily scribbling down what was written on the board or chatting quietly with Blaise or Pansy, Draco was staring down into his lap. He was paler then usual.

After class, Harry made up an excuse to get away from his friends, back tracking to find Draco still sitting perfectly straight in his chair. He was packing his things at an excruciating rate and Harry began to worry.

"Draco?" His voice made the blonde jump. Draco turned, looking up at the Gryffindor. He looked pertified. Harry pulled a chair around and sat down, facing him. He leaned forward so all his focus was on the blonde. They were alone in the Charms classroom now.

"Draco, what's wrong?"

At first, his mouth opened and closed like a fish, his eyes shiny with fear and uncertainty. Finally, he held out the note he had received. Harry took it and read it, his eyes widening. His head snapped up, a serious expression on his face.

"Who gave this to you?"

It was difficult for Draco to speak, his throat tight with the fear. He had been so happy these last few weeks, he had almost forgotten about things like this. Almost forgotten the people he had betrayed, and the things he had done.

"Knott." He finally got out, his face scrunching up in an attempt to keep himself from crying. It wasn't working.

Harry reached out and pulled Draco up with him as he stood, embracing the other young man. The tears came, hot and plenty, into his shoulder but the brunette said nothing. He glared at the wall opposite him, rubbing his boyfriend's back until the tears slowed and ultimately ceased.

Once Draco was breathing slowly, Harry pulled back. He looked into his eyes and gently kissed him.

"Come on, you'll stay with me until it's safe." Draco stared at him, not quite daring to believe it true.

"But, your friends…"

"I know somewhere that no one will us unless we allow them to. Nevermind my friends, I'll handle them. We need to keep you safe and going to Professor McGonagall will only make this worse on you." Harry held out his hand with a small smile. "Trust me, Draco."

Draco grabbed his hand, expression unchanging but his eyes filling with a warmth Harry had never seen before.

"Always."


	13. A Safe Place

Draco watched Harry uncertainly as he walked back and forth in front of the tapestry. He wasn't sure what this was suppose to do, though he recognized the location from their fifth year. "Uh…Harry, what're you…"

Just as he was getting to the end of his question, a door appeared on the opposite wall. Harry smiled, taking the Slytherin's hand and pulling him toward the door. He got them in quickly, making sure the door was shut behind them so that it was concealed again.

The blond looked around the room, his jaw going a bit slack. The room wasn't the vast, well-lit space he remembered crashing into two years. It was now a beautiful bedroom with a large bed, a grand fireplace with a warm and welcoming fire and a sofa large enough for them to lie together. "Oh…Harry."

Harry stepped up next to him, squeezing his hand lightly. "This will keep, and it'll show whenever you need it. This way you have a place to go, somewhere safe." His voice was quiet, hopeful, watching Draco for a sign that this was okay. Draco let go of his hand, walking a little ways into the room before turning back to look at his boyfriend.

"Harry…it's perfect…" The brunette gave him a lopsided smile to match the blond brilliant even one. Draco ran at him, laughing as he jumped into his arm. Though Harry was shorter, he was stronger and caught the slimmer young man easily, swinging him around in a burst of relief. Draco would be safe, Harry would protect him.

When they came to a stop, the blond kissed the Gryffindor, thankful. "I love you," he whispered, not really meaning to say it aloud. It had always been a mutual understanding that Draco had deep feelings for him, but Harry heard the words and opened his eyes to stare at him. Because now, he felt erringly close to saying the words himself.

"I know," he whispered back, holding Draco just a bit tighter. Harry didn't want to say it unless he was sure. After everything that had happened, after all they had seen and been through in their lives and in the last few months, the last thing he wanted was to hurt Draco.

They say both together on the sofa, doing their homework until they could hardly keep their eyes open. Draco kept glancing at the door as they sprawled out across the piece of furniture, Harry lying back with his arms loosing around him.

"Harry… Are you sure we're safe here?"

"Don't worry, Draco. This is a safe place, no one can find us here if we don't want them to." Draco nodded, resting his head on Harry's chest and watching the fire until he dozed off. Harry held him, playing with his hair and staying awake, keeping watch over him silently.


End file.
